


Triumph over Darkness

by 4cansofpepsi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ABO dynamics, Alpha!Harry Potter, Humiliation, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, OOC, Omega!Draco Malfoy, Omega!Voldemort, Porn With Plot, Recreational Drug Use, alphas think about sex every 3 seconds, eventual Dark!Hermione, omegas are useless in heat, so Ron is a dealer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-10-07 04:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17358647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4cansofpepsi/pseuds/4cansofpepsi
Summary: Apparently the power that Voldemort knows not is Harry's magical Alpha cxxk.The tags should be enough summary.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pls read the warnings  
> Harry is 15 even though the fic took place in Goblet of Fire because 14 is just too young <3 timelines are fucked

      Harry had this gut feeling that something was terribly off since he stepped into the maze. The walls of thick vines stood high and oppressive, shrouded in a layer of fog that muffled the young Alpha’s acute sense of smell. Harry walked briskly with his wand ready at his side. He supposed that he should be nervous with the sinking feeling in his gut, but his Alpha instincts filled him with a stronger, almost euphoric urge to fight.  
      “Protego!” From a distance, he made out Cedric’s voice. This means that the cup must be close!  
      As Harry picked up speed, the walls around him rustled and suddenly came alive without warning. Alarmed, Harry raced toward the source of the sound like a Seeker to the Snitch. The narrow tunnel began closing in on him rapidly, as the thorny vines reached out to grab him. But Harry was faster. He tore through the tunnel just as the walls crushed together behind him, a jet of red light flashing right before his eyes.  
      “Expelliarmus!” The jet of light hit Viktor Krum squarely in the chest and knocked him into the air. The magic behind this simple spell was no doubt very strong, if the Krum sprawling unconscious on the ground was anything to go by. Harry wondered briefly if he would be able to fire a stronger disarming charm.  
      “Hello, Harry”. Cedric said. Even after a duel, he looked more composed than Harry, who emerged from the tunnel with cuts all over his body and leaves stuck in his wild hair. Cedric stood tall and handsome, with one loose strand of hair hugging the outline of his face elegantly.  
      “Hello Cedric”. Even though Harry could not smell the older Alpha thanks to the fog, his inner Alpha puffed up his chest and raised his wand.  
      The look on Cedric’s face turned serious as well, then his wand flicked in the air.  
      “Accio C..”  
      “Stupefy!” Harry yelled. His spell left a burnt hole in the ground as Cedric dodged agilely to the side, but Cedric’s summoning spell was stopped just in time.  
      “Nice try.” Harry teased, making Cedric chuckle gently. Moments like this made Harry think that they could have become good friends, but his Alpha brain was more preoccupied with stuff like winning the tournament and Cho’s floral Omegan smell.  
      “I couldn’t resist a good fight either when I just presented as Alpha”  
      “I’m kind of enjoying this Alpha thing.”  
      Cedric smiled knowingly and raised his wand as well. This time they attacked almost at the same time. Harry dodged quickly, but before he could find his footing a new spell flew right at him. Harry conjured the fastest shield in his life to counter that, and felt the force of the spell reverberating through his arm. Before his shield fully dissipated, Harry shot a stunning spell at Cedric in quick succession. Two jets of light, including the rebounded curse, flew at Cedric simultaneously. It would have caught any unexperienced dueler by surprise, but Cedric took advantage of the minute time difference between spells to dodge one and shield the other.  
      _I'm not fast enough._ Harry thought to himself, heart thumping from the exhilarating duel.  
      Cedric did not hesitate to attack again, forcing Harry to duck ungracefully. The dueling went on, with both teenage Alphas unwilling to budge an inch. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew from the depth of the maze and almost knocked Harry to the ground. The vines around them rustled again and creeped toward them impatiently.  
      The wind was attacking them from all sides now, pushing them towards the Cup and forming a swirling tornado as their arena. Realizing that it would only get worse, Harry started running toward the Cup while holding his shield in place. Against the leaves and rocks flying in his face, Harry saw that Cedric was sprinting towards the Cup just as fast – they could reach the Cup at the same time! An idea, or more accurately, an instinct, formed in Harry’s mind.  
      “Sectumsempra!” Harry shouted. It was one of the spells he found on the second-hand potions book, one that he had yet had the opportunity to practice.  
      The beam of light ripped through Cedric’s perfect shield and the next thing Harry knew, Cedric wailed and fell.  
      Harry’s mind went blank for a moment. “Cedric!” His foot steeled themselves inches away from the cup and carried him to the fallen Hufflepuff champion, who let out a pained groan at his touch. There was a long, bleeding gash on the side of his abdomen, where his spell had hit.  
      Harry racked his brains for a healing spell in panic and came up empty.  
      “Are you alright?” He asked stupidly.  
      “What did you say?” Cedric screamed at him through the deafening wind threatening to knock out the both of them.  
      Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Never mind.” He said, and fired Periculum at the sky.  
      Taking a deep breath, Harry braced himself against the wind and walked toward the shiny Cup which was rightfully his by now. His fingers closed around the cold metal, when he felt a hook grip his body and sent him reeling into nothingness.

      Harry fell, face first, into soft, damp soil. His heart sank, thinking that this must be another part of the Third Task, and he wasn’t so sure he could face another dragon or some other dangerous creature in this exhausted state. Fighting the disorienting feeling, Harry observed his surroundings. What he saw only made his heart sink further as a chill rose in his spine.  
He was in the middle of a dark, unkept graveyard, one that he had seen from his dreams involving Voldemort. Only now there was a large boiling cauldron in the middle. The headstone before him read, in dull letters, “Thomas Riddle”.  
      He didn’t need his Alpha instinct to ring any more alarms to know that he needed to get the fuck out of here, now. Harry scrambled up to reach for the Cup that lied innocently on the ground merely a few feet away.  
      “Get him.” A shrill voice ordered.  
      Ropes shot out of nowhere, wrapped around his wrists and ankles and twisted his arms behind his back. Harry threw his head back to see the attacker, and what he saw made him seethe in anger.  
      “Pettigrew” Harry spat out the man’s name like it was the vilest curse. He may be tied up on the floor like a pig for slaughter, but his Alpha scent crackled furiously around him.  
      Then Harry saw the thing lying in Pettigrew’s hands.  
      “Do it now!” The thing commanded. Harry’s scar burst into a searing pain that made him scream uselessly on the ground. It hurt so much, as though a knife repeatedly stabbed his skull. Through the red haze of pain Harry felt that he was levitated then tied against the stature on the grave.  
      The thing, Voldemort, was dropped into the cauldron with a plop.  
      “Bone of the father, unwillingly given..”  
      Harry watched in disgust as Pettigrew cut off his own hand screaming.  
      “Flesh of the servant…willingly sacrificed”  
      Holding the bloody knife, Pettigrew walked up to Harry. Harry cursed as Pettigrew made a trembling cut on his arm.  
      “..Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken..” drops of Harry’s blood fell into the cauldron  
      “The Dark Lord shall rise again!”  
      The sudden intense pain from the scar made Harry scream and bang his head against the stature. A few seconds felt as long as an hour under its torture. When it eventually subsided, Harry finally was able to breathe again. Through tears and broken glasses, he saw the Dark Lord rise in his full, terrifying glory.  
      Voldemort stood in the black mist of his new birth, looking over his long, slim limbs. Slender fingers caressed his noseless face and hairless skin. Those inhuman crimson eyes closed momentarily with relish, as mirth dances on his almost non-existent lips.  
      The oppressive aura of Dark Magic swept across the graveyard, Harry would have felt suffocated, if not for a faint pleasing scent in the air. Harry breathed deeply, trying to figure out what it was.  
      “My wand, Wormtail.” His voice was soft and smooth, and it tingled something in Harry in a strange way.  
      The rat, now cowering on the ground, offered up a grotesque white stick to Voldemort.  
      Voldemort swirled his wand, and the black mist formed a billowing black robe that hugged him from neck to toe. The sleeves extended over his wrists, baring the minimal around of pearl-white skin.  
      Watching as Voldemort effortlessly commanded magic to his will, Harry’s short life seemed to fly by before his eyes. He thought dearly of his friends, of Ron and Hermoine. He hated the thought of dying at 15, still a virgin. He hated how his death could break Sirius’s heart. The thought of that made his heart ache with hatred for the two men before him. He would regret having died without making Pettigrew pay for what he had done. The Alpha in him sneered and thrashed at the thought, ropes digging deeply into his wrists as he struggled.  
      Voldemort grew suddenly still, and sniffed the air suspiciously. Turning around, the Dark Lord turned his attention to Harry for the first time.  
      “Harry” The monster smiled maliciously “I have almost forgotten you were here.”  
      “Living inside a potato could do that to your memory span.” Harry said, surprising even himself when he actually managed to smile in Voldemort’s face.  
      Rage twisted Voldemort’s features. He moved towards Harry in his strange but not ungracefully way of carrying himself, like a snake slithering through grass. Cold hands abruptly seized Harry’s face, forcing his mouth to open.  
      “You have grown quite a tongue, Harry” Voldemort pronounced his name in a drawn out, seductive way “Fortunately you won’t need it for screaming.”  
      Harry’s mind did not register the looming threat against his tongue. He was hit in the face with the same incredibly arousing smell from earlier, only it had grown much stronger as Voldemort’s warm breath brushed against his face. It was nothing like the banal floral scent of Omegas he had met before. It stirred his yearning like a ripe, juicy fruit to a man on the brink of death from thirst. Yet at the same time it had a sharp bite, a fragrant note of spruce and winter, that made his Alpha mad with the need to fuck and take.  
      Harry was rock hard under his pants. He stared at Voldemort’s face with blown irises, amazed by how the scale-like skin around his ruby eyes shimmered in the moonlight.  
      Voldemort recoiled from Harry as if burnt. He stared at his own hand, where he had touched Harry, in what could be only described in disbelief, betrayal, fear. Harry took his reactions all in, from the widening of the eyes to the trembling of the thin lips. A silver of Harry’s own reason remained, appalled at this attraction and shocked that the most feared Dark Lord of the century was a sweet, unmarked Omega, whose scent was just begging to be fucked.  
      “This is not possible…the ritual was supposed to reverse it...” Voldemort looked lost, his voice broken.  
      Oh Harry couldn’t wait to hear what other broken voices the Dark Lord could make. Old magic began coursing through his veins, dulling the pain from his wounds and washing away his exhaustion while heightening other senses. Harry tugged determinedly and violently at the ropes that deterred his hands from having the Omega before him.  
      Pettigrew sniffed the sweetness in the air greedily. But confusion and fear easily won over arousal for the cowardly Beta as he questioned in a small voice, “Master?”  
      “Silence!” Voldemort stopped in his pacing and yelled “Crucio!”  
      Despite the light tremor in the Dark lord’s arm, the spell found it target. Pettigrew screamed in an excruciatingly annoying voice, before looking up cautiously in bewilderment at the how brief and…weak the cruciatus curse felt.  
      The air grew thicker by the second with Voldemort’s smell. Harry didn’t have to be an expert on Omegas to know that the new-born Dark Lord was spiraling rapidly into a full blown heat right before his eyes.  
      “You are going into heat, Voldemort.” Harry stated with a vindictive smile.  
      Voldemort bent over in pain and clutched his belly hidden under the dark robe. Harry knew that Voldemort had hurt himself, possibly with his sharp nails, for the faint yet tantalizing smell of blood that fueled the young Alpha’s fiery desire to lock the Omega in his arms and claim him as his.  
      “Crack” The rope against Harry’s wand hand fell off. He must have dislocated his thumb, but the pain was negligible compared to the insatiable want burning in his body. “Finite Incantatem” Harry aimed his wand at the remaining ropes and shrugged them off.  
      The Alpha’s musky, heady scent hung heavily in the air, with a hint of the smell of lemons and freshly cut summer grass. The darkest wizard of the century, ravaged by heat, struggled to stand upright before the Alpha. His long legs shook like that of a newborn fawn. As he moved and raised his wand at Harry, a trail of glistening liquid leaked between his legs and wetted the ground below.  
      “Avada Kedevra!” Voldemort shouted with desperation.  
      For some unfathomable reason, Harry did not try to dodge the death curse. Harry felt a punch where the spell hit him, and his nose warmed funnily. Harry wiped away his nosebleed with a triumphant smile, and stalked toward the Omega.  
      Voldemort’s legs gave out as he fell to the floor, a wild look on his face. His own body and magic had conspired against him and made the feared Lord a heap of wet, needy mess.  
      Harry took his time, approaching his prey with a deliberate slowness, crushing the Omega’s pride under his foot with each sure step taking him closer to Voldemort.  
      “Kill him, Wormtail!” The Omega called out as he struggled to stand, but his legs were weak, and ended up crawling away from Harry pathetically.  
      “Wormtail!” The Omega all but begged like his life depended on it. Jealousy lifted its ugly head in Harry’s chest.  
      “Sectumsempra!” Harry aimed at Pettigrew who still sat frozen in a shocked stupor. He was getting the hang of the curse. It cut the traitorous rat with such vicious force that he fell lifelessly without even time to scream.  
      Not bothering to check if Pettigrew was still alive, Harry grabbed a hold of Voldemort’s neck to make the Omega face him in a kneeling position.  
      “Kill me? So that rat or any Muggle passing by could claim you like this?”  
      Voldemort struggled weakly. Beneath the long robes, his body convulsed with a need that twisted his innards and overrun his senses. His face was held dangerously close to the tent in the boy’s pants, and the pure Alpha smell was so strong he felt empty to the point of painful.  
      Harry unbuckled his pants. His bulging cock jumped out and slapped Voldemort in the face with a lewd sound. The Omega whimpered loudly. A rosy pink climbed up his pale cheeks and reddened his ears, and his mouth opened instinctively to take what his Alpha had to give.  
      Harry almost couldn’t resist fucking Voldemort in the mouth when he saw the tip of that forked tongue tremble in the air, as if scenting Harry out. But he couldn’t risk Voldemort suddenly regaining consciousness and biting him. Instead, Harry slapped Voldemort’s face once more, and pressed his arousal to the scale-like skin around his eyes. Harry outlined the non-existent brows, the high cheekbones and the pliant, soft mouth with his cock.  
      “What would your followers think if they see you now, Voldemort?” Harry called the Omega’s grandiose name tauntingly.  
      Voldemort did not answer but moaned, his cheeks covered in precum and head swimming in the Alpha’s smell. Harry’s hand roamed from his neck to the collarbones, searching for the swollen gland hiding beneath the robes. Voldemort whimpered when his fingers brushed against a spot. Harry applied more pressure this time, and watched in enthrallment as the Dark Lord trembled and bucked his hips, climaxing from a mere touch at Harry’s fingertip.  
      The heavenly Omega smell flooded Harry’s lungs and made his emerald eyes see red. Unable to hold it in any longer, he pinned Voldemort down and hiked up his robe. One orgasm was nothing to satiate an Omega in the grips of heat, but it returned the Dark Lord to his senses for a brief moment. He struggled violently under the Alpha, spitting mad with mortification at what had just transpired. Blinded by rage and heat, curses flew hazardously from his wand without finding their target. But a raw magic pulsed around Voldemort, managing to catch Harry unaware and knock him forcefully to the side.  
      “You will regret this, Potter… I will skin you alive …”  
      Harry laughed. He might have found the threats scarier if Voldemort weren't lying on the ground ass naked and impossibly wet. Instead, his struggles and powerful magical aura only further excited Harry, for it would make it even sweeter when he finally claimed the Omega.  
      Harry’s laugh must have stung the Omega’s pride badly. When he utterly another killing curse, the Alpha dodged to the side with ease and snatched his thin wrist in a vice like grip. Harry peeled the bone white wand from Voldemort’s fingers. The wand zapped Harry's palm angrily, unwilling to obey just like its owner, but Harry bent it to his will just the same.“Reducto!” He cast the spell that broke the black robe into shreds before tossing the wand away.  
      Naked and disarmed, the last glimmer of hope left Voldemort’s eyes, but still he struggled futilely with weak kicks. Harry grabbed his pale ankles and forced the long legs to spread before him, revealing Voldemort’s genitals and the pink, wet hole.  
      “Try that again" Harry warned “I'll take you with me back to Hogwarts. Spread you over the Gryffindor table. Let the entire class see what a whore the Dark Lord really is.” Before Voldemort could react, Harry pushed his swollen cock against him and thrusted.  
      Harry had never felt more powerful than this moment, when the silky hole of an Omega greedily sucked on his cock. The feared Dark Lord, murderer of his parents, cried when he ripped his insides and slammed into his deepest, most secret place. Harry took a moment to control himself from the intense wave of pleasure washing over him. He gripped Voldemort’s thighs hard enough to leave bruises, to still the sensitive Omega’s spasms from another orgasm.  
      The thought that he already made his Omega come twice fed into the Alpha’s growing ego. He began pounding mercilessly into Voldemort in a manner typical of young, hot-headed Alphas.  
Relentless tides of pleasure crushed Voldemort. It was all he could do to clench his teeth and keep the desperate moans from escaping his mouth. He recalled a familiar ache he often experienced in his youth, an emptiness that only an Alpha could fill. He was stretched and filled to be brim right now, but this pleasure was equally if not more torturous. Voldemort thought he had freed himself from his biology a long time ago, with a potion that caused his unwanted organs to shrivel and die. He thought this new body made of pure magic would mark a new beginning, free from a humiliating past, but his old curse had come back to haunt him with a viciousness stronger than ever.  
      Tears gathered in Voldemort’s red-rimmed eyes with each thrust. Soon his face was streaked with tears. Harry fucked his tight hole until he was soft and sloppy with water, until he had tightened around Harry’s cock again from another irrepressible orgasm ripping through his body, and the cycle repeated itself.  
      “Your skin is so smooth.” Harry said under his breath, running his hand over Voldemort’s bare skin. Every inch of the monster’s body shimmered like white silk, and Harry could not get enough of the feeling.  
      “S, stop..” Voldemort half whined and half hissed. It was like what happened when he tried to steal the philosopher’s stone all over again, his skin was set on fire wherever Harry touched him, but this time it came from pleasure instead of pain.  
      Harry responded by pounding him even harder. Warm hands reached up to play with Voldemort’s already erect nipples. Voldemort gasped, shocked that the boy had discovered a new way to torment him. It was like a switch was flipped on inside of Voldemort, who moaned and cried with each playful twist or gentle caress. Harry’s mouth watered at the deliciously pink nipples against Voldemort’s pale chest. Giving in to his inner Alpha’s every urge, Harry bent down and took one in his mouth, licking and sucking as he pleased. Those legs had barely any strengths left to struggle after a thorough fuck. This freed Harry’s other hand to tug at the Omega’s weeping dick. It was hairless and cool to the touch just like the rest of the Omega.  
      Voldemort felt something explode in his abdomen when he came again, cum splattering all over his belly and his lower body twitching uncontrollably. He was so sore it hurt. Voldemort squirmed, trying to get a moment’s reprieve from the pounding, but his Alpha forced himself through his over-sensitive hole again and again without hesitation. Worse, the evil hand would not stop tugging at his dick, forcing shameful cries out of his mouth.  
      “No, please, Alpha!” The Dark Lord begged between ragged breaths “..too much!”  
      The hand rewarded his honesty by finally letting go of him. But it was far from over. A pair of lips pressed themselves against his gasping mouth. The oppressive Alpha scent wrapped tightly around Voldemort, until he was drowning in it. Harry chased down Voldemort’s forked tongue and sucked on his thin lips, devouring the addictive sweetness in the Omega’s mouth.  
      A twisted idea flitted across Harry’s mind.  
      “Look, Voldemort” he broke the kiss and whispered a lie in the shell of his Omega’s ear “Your servant is watching us.”  
      Instantly Voldemort went rigid under him. Crimson eyes widened in horror before Voldemort shut them forcefully and buried his face in Harry’s neck, nuzzling against the very source of Alpha hormones. Slender limbs wrapped around Harry’s body tightly, as if his presence were the only haven of protection the Omega knew.  
      Harry felt a knot forming in the base of his cock.  
      Without breaking the rhythm of thrusts, Harry pulled himself into a sitting position and Voldemort along with him. The Omega whimpered against him, as the straddling position made Harry’s growing hardness reach the deepest part of his body. Nailing Voldemort against him, Harry’s knot quickly ballooned and stretched the virgin hole to its limit.  
      Voldemort panted and moaned painfully as Harry poured his seeds inside his Omega’s secret chamber. But the pain soon shifted into a dizzying wholeness and pleasure, forcing Voldemort to climax one last time with eyes rolled back and a scream at the tip of his tongue. Harry, the good Alpha that he is, captured the tongue in his own mouth while caressing the Omega’s head and neck soothingly. Harry did not break the kiss until the knotting was close to be finished.  
      “What did you say?” Harry asked, panting. Then he realized that Voldemort was only speaking feverish gibberish, and in parceltongue no less.  
      “..Harry Potter..” Voldemort managed to say.  
      “I’m here.” Harry answered amusedly. The wizarding world’s boy wonder brushed Voldemort’s head to the side and sank his teeth into the swollen gland.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter contains mostly plot and not enough porn  
> In the meantime, pls let me know what other fcked up things/pairings you wanna see. I'm trying to get young Riddle and mindfuck soon. Plot exists to serve sex scenes.

      Harry dreamed that he was in the Chamber of Secrets again with Tom Riddle. Only this time there was no trace of Ginny, for Harry was Riddle’s sole victim. As the ghost of the charming Head Boy sucked on Harry’s life force, his half transparent body slowly filled out with color, unveiling luscious black tresses, silvery grey eyes and plump pink lips. Harry had cried like a scared child, until suddenly, he grew taller and stronger. In the place of the scrawny 12-year-old child stood a formidable Alpha. He tore open those immaculate Slytherin robes and ravished Riddle against the cold stone floor of the Chamber. Riddle’s impenetrable façade crumbled beneath him. His cruel mouth tasted like honey on Harry lips. And when Harry caught the tears rolling out of those hateful eyes, it tasted like molten snow.

      Harry woke up to find his nose buried in Voldemort’s neck. Memories flashed back to him in waves. After he had knotted and marked Voldemort, He moved themselves into the bedroom of a small cabin next to the graveyard, before passing from exhaustion _spooning_ the Dark Lord. Said Dark Lord was sleeping like a lamb right now and sharing his pillow.

      _Please do not wake up._ Harry pleaded silently in his head. He would rather battle a basilisk with a quill or do anything really than face an awake Voldemort at the moment. Thankfully Voldemort stayed still. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and carefully disentangled their limbs. His muscles ached in protest as he pushed himself up from bed. A painful throb from his dislocated thumb shot through his arm. He felt physically and emotionally utterly miserable - The deep cut on his forearm had scarred in the ugliest possible way, while his throat throbbed from thirst. He also felt a bit nauseous, though whether that was from hunger or from bedding the Dark Lord Harry could not be sure. Keeping his eyes pointedly off the Omega next to him, Harry stumbled out of bed in mild panic.

      How could he explain this situation to his friends? To Sirius? Harry’s thoughts raced as he made his way to the kitchen, the floorboards screeching dangerously under his feet.

      “What happened, Harry?” imaginary Hermione asked in his head “You disappeared right in the maze. Everyone was so worried about you!”

      “Trust me to know it when you smell different, Harry” Sirius clapped his back laughing “Who's the lucky Omega?”

      “Well, so Voldemort has returned in the flesh, but fear not, I fucked him like an animal and marked him.” Imaginary Harry stated matter-of-factly. Imagining the looks on people’s faces, Harry almost laughed from the absurdity of it.

      Rummaging through the kitchen, Harry found a pack of frozen spaghetti in the fridge which he shoved it into the oven, and drank mouthfuls of water straight from the tap. With his thirst quenched, Harry checked and made sure that his Holly wand still lied in his pocket in one piece. While the spaghetti made circles in the oven, Harry took a quick look around the cabin. It was just as dirty and dingy as it looked from the outside, but the only other option of lodging next to the graveyard had been the church, and Harry obviously would not carry a naked Voldemort into the church.

       Harry stopped in front of the framed picture of a grumpy looking man. _No wonder this cabin is deserted._ Harry had seen this man killed by Voldemort in one of his dreams. Whoever lived here is dead because of Voldemort. Harry’s lips pressed into a thin line. He’s not in the mood to eat the dead muggle’s food after he had just slept with his cold-blooded murderer.

      The oven “dinged” behind him, but Harry had already fled the cabin. There was no sign of a bloody rat in the graveyard. When he passed the spot where he had taken Voldemort last night, Harry picked up the bone white wand and stuffed it in his pocket, shunning the memories of kisses and moans. He spotted the Triwizard Cup, still lying in the weeds where he had left it last night, and grabbed it without looking back. For a split second Harry feared that the Portkey effect had worn off, but it quickly sent him plummeting into soft Hogwarts ground.

     

      Voldemort had barely slept. His body lied in bed like a rigid statue but his mind floated and dreamed, and in his dreams he was always falling. His traitorous body ached all over, burning with fever. But he was Lord Voldemort, who had transcended the limits of magic and paid the price of pain that no other living soul could endure. Physical discomfort was nothing to him. He ignored the pain and grieved his loss of control on magic, his shameful weakness.

      When the hot body pressed against him moved, Voldemort stayed still, burying his head in the pillow like an ostrich. The boy cursed and sat up. A mere boy, weak and untrained, yet the greatest Dark Lord trembled in fear when the bed dipped beside him, terrified that he would touch him again. Degrade him and drag him to Hogwarts to be displayed before his enemies.

      The boy left the room. But Voldemort knew he was not alone. A hum in the back of his mind. A string strung tight. He need only close his eyes and his newly forged connection would take his mind flying across the mountains and waters of Scottish Highlands to reach the boy. The bond was much stronger than it was supposed to be. His fever addled mind concentrated to not slip into it.

      Voldemort stumbled out of bed and desperately searched the graveyard from the window for a sight of his wand. It was not there. Voldemort saw the grass and the headstone and remembered how they felt against his squirming body. He had begged and cried. The very thought of the boy, _the outline of his face, the green of his eyes,_ was more repulsive than death.

      All of a sudden, he was back in Hogwarts. The familiar scent of early spring was in the air. He was floating precariously over a river of hands. Laughing faces painted in red and yellow surrounded him. “Hogwarts!” “Potter!” The crowd chanted as they flung him and the Cup into the air. Voldemort was filled with joy. Hogwarts celebrated him. He saw two redheads in the crowd, followed by an explosion that drenched him in colorful confetti and glitters.

      “Oi Harry!” A voice called. Voldemort whipped around to see his best friends.

      “We’ve been so worried!” The girl asked “Where have you been?”

      _Where has he been?_ Harry’s heart sank at the question. Voldemort tore himself from the boy’s mind. He was back in the dingy muggle bedroom, leaning weakly against the window frame.

      Drip, drip. He was leaking…fluids. _His Alpha left him, alone and defenseless._

      Voldemort screamed as his magic acted out, stomping on the bubble of Omega self-pity inside of him. Windows broke, pillows exploded, pointless muggle objects smashed to pieces. Voldemort fell from exhaustion inside the room he demolished.

      There was no perception of time in his nightmare of memories. The second wave of heat began when the sky outside turned dark. It started as a deceptively warm feeling in his stomach that spread to his body and limbs. Voldemort knew the warmth would quickly accelerate till his very core was melting with need. He was tossing and turning in the silver and green four poster bed, protected by layers upon layers of wards. The wards silenced his cries, sealed his scent and locked him inside his bed, so that he could not go running to the infirmary for a quick fix. Nobody would know of his condition, he vowed, for one day even the proudest Alphas would bow their heads to him.

      Voldemort wetted the green silk sheets again. He had been right not to trust himself. He had succumbed to the maddening emptiness that his fingers never managed to fill. His rough, desperate efforts to find relief only worsened it, until he was choking on his own revolting sweet scent. There was nothing left of him except the primitive desire for an Alpha, any Alpha. But there’s the catch. It was not any Alpha that he wanted. He remembered the smell that enveloped him like a hot summer’s day. He was rolling in grass, light-headed from the touch of sunshine and the innocent taste of lemons. His body remembered the shape of his Alpha’s knot. It filled him like the missing puzzle piece and his soul had glowed in wholeness and pleasure.

      A silhouette stood by his bed. Voldemort did not know how long it had been there, but it was looking at him. He felt an irrational fear that this person could see him, in the naked truth of what he was. But It was not possible! No Hogwarts student could sense, let alone break the wards around his bed.

      “No!” Voldemort screamed as the shadow’s hand reached through the wards and lifted the curtains. Green eyes met grey ones widened in shock.

      “You are dreaming.” The intruder said.

      Voldemort woke with a gasp. He was in the dimly lit cabin, lying over shards of broken glass. Cool scales slid over his skin, marginally easing his burning. ‘Massster…’ Nagini hissed. Voldemort found little solace in Nagini’s return. His skin crawled from the pair of invisible eyes watching him intently from the darkness.

      _Get out of my head!_

 

      “Ahh” Harry shot out of his bed at being violently thrown out of Voldemort’s dream. He searched the bedside table for his glasses and shoved them on his face.

      “Someone had a wet dream” A voice teased.

      “Just jerk off already.” Seamus protested from the other end of the dorm room.

      Harry mumbled an apology and casted a scent concealing charm, trying very hard to ignore the raging boner in his pants.

      “You alright mate?” Ron asked.

      Harry wanted to lie and say that everything’s fine, but it came out as “Not really.”

      “You wanna, talk about what happened when you disappeared?” Ron asked, stacking the sickles he was counting in a pile on his bed “I’ve got time.”

      “Later.” Harry promised. He couldn’t keep it from his friends forever, but it was best to not talk about it now. He wasn’t so sure what he would do himself. The prevailing theories among the student body on what happened range from Harry sneaking off to celebrate his victory with the fairies (who threw the best parties) to unlocking a hidden Task that grants the champion more galleons than he could want.

      To his relief, Ron just gave him a weird look and let it slide. “There, helps you sleep.”

      Harry took the joint Ron offered and smoked it against the window. Even as he tried to make smoke rings to distract himself, the connection at the back of his head kept pulling at him longingly. When Harry looked at the bright, giant moon in the sky, all he could see was how Voldemort looked lying in the broken cabin, bloody from the broken shards and scratching of his own fingers.

      _He’s not my Omega._ Harry reminded himself. _I wasn’t myself when I marked him. Even if I was, I did it out of spite._

      “Nice batch.” Harry commented when he handed the joint backed to Ron. The magical weed soothed the anxiety and feeling of wrongness, but sleep did not come easy to him.

      The next morning, Harry went to breakfast with dark circles under his eyes and feeling like shit. Determinedly ignoring the murmurs of gossip and curious looks from students, Harry sat at his usual spot next to Ron.

      “Morning, Hermione” Harry said before the witch could open her mouth “You look absolutely lovely this morning. This book really brings out the charming hazel of your eyes.”

      Hermione rolled her eyes while Ron glared at Harry like he got kicked in the head by a hippogriff.

      “What is it you are reading there?” Harry put on his best interested face at the gigantic tomb in her hands as he shoved food onto his plate.

      Hermione showed them the leather cover unenthusiastically. Golden letters read _Magical Origin of the Secondary Gender_. “Pile of rubbish legitimizing discrimination against Omegas.” The Beta witch said “I know what you are trying to do here Harry.”

      Harry sighed “Points for effort?”

      Hermione crossed her arms. “Wild theories are floating around, Harry. How long before a ridiculous one gets printed on paper? Sooner or later you’ll have to explain _something_. The ministry will want to know how a powerful artifact they trusted vanished you - I’m not stupid enough to believe that the ministry planned this. And don’t think I didn’t notice that Professor Moody haven’t been sighted since your disappearance.”

      “What?” Harry slapped away an annoying beetle on his glass of pumpkin juice and looked to the professor’s table. Professor Moody’ seat was indeed empty.

      “It’s maybe a coincidence?”

      That was definitely the wrong answer because Hermione got the “You need to treat this seriously you little shit because you might be in danger” look on her face. Harry lowered his head to focus on his pile of food. He silently questioned how he could find Hermione more terrifying than Voldemort. He braced himself for the lecture to come, but a god-sent letter was dropped on his table and rescued him.

      Harry turned around and saw Snape’s sour face glancing down at him.

      “Mr. Potter” Snape said in his usual silky baritone “The Headmaster wishes to see you tonight to discuss your recent activities…” Black eyes bore into him with unnecessary intensity “…and the curse you casted on Mr. Diggory.”

      Harry watched the messenger bat flap away and buried his face in his hands. What in Merlin’s name is he supposed to tell Dumbledore, the leader of opposition against Voldemort? The one-hundred-year old guy who had known Harry since he was 11? Harry didn’t think he could say the word “knot” in Dumbledore’s face without dying from blushing.

      _Well, this is your cue to Alpha up and face it._ Harry forced himself to look at his friends. “I’ll tell you what happened, after class, in private.” Harry said in a hushed voice. “But you have to stay calm and help me think of a cover story.”

      “What is it you can’t tell Dumbledore?” Ron asked jokingly “Unless you’ve, like, killed someone. I’ll help bury the body and Hermoine will make you an alibi.”

      Harry looked at him with pity. “You’ll know.”

      By the time Harry went to Potions, he had made up his mind to act normal and pretend nothing had happened. No doubt Voldemort would find a way to completely break their bond after he recovered from heat. Harry knew from Hogwart’s extremely limited sex ed that Omega’s heat normally lasted three days, so it should all be over in no time. Harry ignored the tiny stirring in his heart at the thought that his Omega, scratch that, Voldemort was still lying in a sketchy cabin, alone and in heat.

      Harry almost believed that his plan would work out, except he felt a familiar sinking feeling in his gut the moment he stepped into Potions. Exactly like how he felt when he entered the maze of the Third Task. Having no idea why his Alpha sense was ringing alarms again, Harry looked around the classroom cautiously, but everything looked as gloomy and uninteresting as he remembered.

      Snape distributed their homeworks with a flourish of his wand and ordered them to open their books. Harry’s paper, surprisingly, got a giant “T for plagiarism.” Is this what his Alpha sense warned him about, a bad grade? Harry couldn’t care less what the greasy old git thought about his paper. The old potions book from the half-blood prince was a better teacher than a dozen Snape bundled together. Despite that, Harry felt queasy and afraid, strange emotions coursing through him for no reason.

      Harry tapped at the table anxiously. Gathering his reason from the anxiety clouding his head, he tried to figure out what was going on. Maybe the thing he needed to be warned about wasn't in this class. Suddenly he was hit with the realization that these emotions were seeping through his bond.

      Harry crushed the beetles under his knife and tossed them into the cauldron absentmindedly. What could possibly make the Dark Lord afraid? Harry thought he knew the answer, but that could not be possible…At another wave of distress leaking through, Harry couldn’t help but gently tug at their bond. He had to do it. It wouldn’t hurt to know what Voldemort was up to, he argued to himself. It felt too easy to slip into Voldemort’s mind, as if it was an extension of his own. 

     Exhaustion, pain, need, hunger and thirst pulled his mind into a crushing embrace. Voldemort had moved from the floor to the bed and he was lying naked under a thin layer of blanket. An Alpha crouched by his bed. Harry felt sickened by the smell of an unmarked Alpha, next to his Omega in heat. It was unmistakably the Barty Jr. Harry saw from Dumbledore’s memory.

      “Are you loyal to me?” Voldemort asked, his voice coarse from suppressed screams and screaming. Barty had seen him possess the bodies of base, mindless animals, while his loyalty to the dark never wavered. But seeing their Lord as an Omega? It was an entirely different level of disgrace.

     “Of course, my Lord.” Barty answered immediately. “I have devoted my life to you, would throw away my life for you, if my Lord wishes it.” There had always been a mad glint in the young Death Eater’s eyes, but this time there was something more dangerous in those blown pupils. Lust.  

      “Leave me.” Voldemort said in the coldest voice he could muster, but it came out more like a needy whine.

      Barty inched closer to the edge of the bed and inhaled deeply. “I would do anything, just to kiss the hem of your robe, my Lord” The Alpha simpered “Let your humble servant ease your suffering...”

      Barty’s placed a hand on his Omega’s trembling thigh and reached up.

      “10 points from Gryffindor!” Snape’s voice jolted him back to reality. Harry was standing in the middle of Potions class, his chair knocked to the floor and wand battle ready in his hand.

      Another Alpha had caressed his Omega’s skin, under a sheer layer of cloth. Harry finally understood what true rage felt like. It was blood boiling, mind consuming and his magic zapping hungrily. How dare that Death Eater scum confess his undying devotion to his Omega? How could anyone lay a finger on what he had claimed and marked as his? _His_ to touch, _his_ to care for and definitely _his_ to fuck.

      “What invisible enemy are you attacking here, Mr. Potter?”

      Harry had no time for Snape’s insults or his friends’ concern. There was nowhere he should be right now except at his Omega’s side. He needed to bash that slimy Alpha’s face bloody and permanently wipe away that look of lust. He would take Voldemort and make him his private knot whore, until he was drenched with his scent and filled with his seed. No matter how the Omega would beg or weep, Harry would not stop until Voldemort learned the consequences of revealing himself to another Alpha like that.

      Harry grabbed his satchel and bolted out of the room. He didn’t know how to Apparate, but he knew secret passageways out of Hogwarts and he had his Firebolt. It was reckless and it was crazy. It was also liberating when Harry sprinted through Hogsmeade and shot into the air on his broom. He had made a mistake in keeping himself from the truth with wishful lies. Fucking Voldemort felt good. It felt more intoxicating than flying for the first time. And Harry had chosen to mark Voldemort because for a moment he looked human, vulnerable and strangely adorable in his arms. If finding the snake faced monster fuckable makes him a pervert, so be it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for lovely comments and kudos kinky readers

      The sky was getting dark outside. A lean, fair-haired man crouched on the floor. He was fixated on this work, straining in the dying sunlight to carve up the last ingredients for a potion. A python coiled in one corner of the room, bulb-like eyes watching him work unblinkingly. In the other corner, a petrified goat leaned against the wall.

      Barty let out a shaky breath when the potion roared after he put in the ingredients and turned a greyish purple. Despite layers upon layers of scent concealing wards around the room, he dared not breathe deeply lest he catches a whiff of his Lord.

      “It’s ready for the sacrifice, V..my Lord.” Barty said with his head bowed.

      “Do it!” A voice urged with restrained pain. Barty dared a quick glance at the figure lying in bed. He was certain that he had made no mistakes in his preparations - unlike that imbecile Pettigrew, who brought their Lord back as an _Omega_. Still, he double checked his ingredients against the recipe the Dark Lord drew up for him. This potion was inherently dark and very dangerous, but his Lord was adamant that it was the only way to permanently solve the problem for someone with his great magical prowess.

      The python hissed impatiently, startling the Death Eater. Memories of almost getting bitten still fresh on his mind, Barty hastily summoned the pregnant goat he went through a great deal of trouble to acquire, and held its neck above the bubbling cauldron.

      Thanks to the scent concealing charms wrapped around the room, none had sensed the meteorite of Alpha rage rapidly approaching them. Barty commenced chanting and pressed the sharp blade against the animal’s neck, when something riding on a broom crashed through the window and plunged into him, cracking his ribs and hauling him across the room, knocking the giant cauldron over with a thunderous thud. Its contents spilt on the floor rotted through wood like acid, filling the room with putrid smoke.

      The wild haired boy jumped off the broom to face the other Alpha. In the midst of the thickening smoke, Barty was but a blot of blurry shadows.

      “Potter, you are a fool to come here!” Barty yelled through split lips. He scrambled up the floor quickly with the sharp knife gripped in his hand. He would kill the boy this instant to prove his worth to the Dark Lord again - May his Lord have Mercy over the terrible crime he almost committed, if not for Nagini’s timely interference.

      The other Alpha’s very voice reminded Harry of those intolerable images of his Omega being touched, or worse… The boy’s fine features distorted into a bloodthirsty snarl. He saw the shadow charge at him with a silver glint in its hands and stepped aside just in time. But the blade followed with a slash aimed at his neck. Harry grabbed his Firebolt, floating where he had dismounted, and swung it like a bat at the shadow’s assailing arm.

      Barty’s cry of pain sounded like music to his ears. The knife slipped from Barty’s palm and dropped to the floor with a clink. Harry took this opportunity to slam his fist into Barty’s face and relished the crunch of his knuckles against broken nose and teeth. Barty had enough sense left to attack where the other was vulnerable and punched the younger Alpha in the stomach, almost sending Harry doubling over in pain.

      Neither pain nor fear ever got in the way in a clash between Alphas. Drunk on anger and blood lust, neither thought of drawing a wand or casting a spell. In this moment they were more animals than wizards. Eyes red, Harry launched himself against Barty and tackled him, sending both of them tumbling to the floor. Fingers scratched and hands reached for Harry’s throat, attempting to choke the life out of him. But Harry rammed his knee into Barty’s gut and punched him right in the face. Ruthlessly. Again, and again. Until his knuckles bled and the other Alpha flailed uselessly under him.

      The rhythmic crunching slowly died out. Breathing heavily, Harry rose triumphant over an opponent reduced to a bloody mess. Harry gripped Barty by the hair and dragged his limp body across the room. Ignoring the incomprehensible yelling, Harry lifted him like a sack of flour and searched for his wand. He found a battered, familiar-looking wand in Barty’s pocket.

      Blood rushed to his head and his ears rang.

      “What did you do to Professor MOODY?” Harry gripped the limp body by the collar and shook him violently. Barty laughed maniacally at him, coughing up bubbles of blood.

      “Confringo!” A powerful curse shot out of Moody’s wand, blasting Barty in the chest and throwing him out of the broken window.

      Harry heard the impact of body on concrete. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Harry carefully placed Professor Moody’s wand in his pocket. The Moody he knew was a tough and unyielding Alpha, but cunning and intelligent at the same time. He could only hope that old bastard would take care of himself.

      The smoke filing the room had dispersed slightly. Harry took a quick look around the wreck they’ve made. Already battered furniture were destroyed and the cauldron made an ugly crater in the floor. For some reason there was also a goat lying rigid by the cauldron. But none of these mattered compared to what he came here for. Harry walked to the bed to claim his reward, and saw that it was empty.

      The sneaky little Omega had fled. But that was only delaying the inevitable. Dark Lord or not, Harry was sure he couldn’t get far in this state.

      The very moment Harry stepped outside the room, he was hit in the face with a rich, tantalizing Omega smell - untouched by the stains of another Alpha and swirling with need for him and him only. His. Harry was immediately hard and grinning like an idiot at the pleasant surprise. How was it possible that he could be filled with such pure joy and violent desire for his Omega at the same time? He sprung to action and sought out the source of that smell.

      ‘..Kill…’

      Harry stopped hesitantly in his tracks and listened.

      ‘Strike…sss…kill…’ The hissing continued in a low voice. It would be inaudible if not for Harry’s heightened senses.

      One more thing that stood between him and Voldemort? ‘Show yourself.’ Harry hissed as he whipped out his wand.

      ‘A speaker?’ The voice asked in wonder, louder this time. Squinting his eyes in the darkened room, Harry managed to make out the spotted scales of a snake, coiled lazily on the curtain railings. Cold sweat broke out of his back at the sight. A few steps forward, and a pair of venomous fangs may have sunk into his neck.

      ‘Are you my Omega’s pet?’ Harry asked in the friendliest possible tone under the circumstances ‘What is your name?’

      ‘Nagini is my name’ The snake answered. Its eyes glinted in a yellowish hue. ‘Come closer, speaker. My Masster hides insside, if thats what you ssseek.’

      Harry huffed ‘I’d rather not.’

      Nagini made a sound akin to laughing. ‘Clever boy.’ Its body slithered sensuously along the railing as it turned larger and larger. In seconds, Harry faced a gigantic python curled up on the floor before him.

      ‘I don’t wish to harm you’. Harry said with more confident than he actually had ‘But I will get past you.’

      Nagini bared her fangs gleaming with venom ‘Massster ordered Nagini guard. Turn away, boy who sspeaks.’

      ‘Your master can’t think straight right now.’ Harry circled Nagini, choosing his words carefully ‘He’s scared, confused.’

      ‘Massster always sscared.’ Nagini stared at him, expressionless.

      ‘He’s a lot more scared than usual, Nagini.’ Harry injected his words with sincere concern ‘A man just tried to harm him. He doesn’t know what’s the best for himself right now.’

      ‘Lies.’

      ‘I tell the truth, Nagini. Your Master is in heat and I am his mate.’

      Nagini whipped her tail agitatedly. ‘Master’s orders.’ She insisted.

      Harry smiled ‘I can undo that’.

 

      Voldemort had looked for a place to hide. He couldn’t make it outside - not like this. Covering himself with a thin layer of sheets, he searched. There was a large, wooden closet that had just enough room for him. He curled up inside and closed the door. Nagini shall not fail him. He had believed it so, held on to it like the last straw of hope, until that boy stepped outside the wards and his scent invaded him. A wild happiness suddenly seized his mind. He had yearned for that hotness in the air for so long without realizing it. Gasping in the dusty old closet, it was as if he could taste the sweat on the boy’s unblemished skin, tanned to a perfect tone of honey. Forked tongue ghosted over thin lips, reliving the brush of cock against his mouth, the taste of his Alpha’s semen. He had kneeled and opened himself to his Alpha in that graveyard. Voldemort was devastated with desire and dread that it would soon consume him. The cold harsh wood pressed firmly against his sweaty skin but each inch of him wanted something better, more.

      The boy had to be doing it on purpose. His scent swept across the room and pinned him against the wall, viciously bullying him into submission. Voldemort dug his nails into the hard wood and fought his weakness with frenzied denial and self-loathing. A shadow crept up to the back of his mind. One tug at their bond and the shield he laboriously constructed fell to shambles. Voldemort felt the vibrant emerald gaze all over his skin and a rush of wetness between his legs.

      ‘Miss me?’ The voice in his head hissed. Voldemort fisted the sheets so hard he heard the tearing of fabric.

      _Yes Alpha_. His mind screamed. There was a monster in his belly. It throbbed to the rhythm of his heart, setting his nerves on fire with each beat. It sent waves of an appalling impulse along his body – the impulse to spread his legs and present himself to his Alpha. Breathing the sweetened air greedily, the delirious Dark Lord shoved two fingers into himself.

      ‘Stop,’ The voice said, the coldness in its tone almost making him whine. His squirming body froze on command with fingers still stuck in his ass.

      ‘Take out your fingers’ It said, softer this time. Voldemort obeyed, just realizing now that he had started bleeding below from his own nails.‘You may play with your dick. Gently.’

      Voldemort took in a sharp breath when his hands wrapped around his own weeping member. He stroked it gently, and began thrusting into his hands instinctively as his Alpha watched. The pleasure just bordered on enough, but it could never fully be enough without his Alpha's cock.

      ‘Good.’ His Alpha purred. The praise made his body tinkle with warmth. ‘Do you remember how I played with your nipples?’ 

      ‘Yessssss’ Voldemort hissed, reaching for the already erect nubs. Warm hands had played him like an instrument. His Alpha was a master musician who knew how to make him moan or beg or whimper at every caress or subtle pressure. The heavy weight in his mind turned into a physical presence by his side. He was not only putting on a show for his Alpha. His Alpha became the one behind those hands, gracing him with touches and gifting him with mind blowing pleasure. A low chuckling by his ear. He could picture the amused upturn of those lips. Those hot and demanding lips that devoured his mouth and left the bite mark by his neck.

      ‘Come for me.’ It said and Voldemort came in the dark closet screaming the name of the prophesied boy.

      Exhausted, sensitive and more alone than ever, the Omega pleaded ‘Pleassse.’

      ‘Please what?’ His Alpha pushed for it.

      Voldemort felt like his tongue had turned into a knot. ‘F..fuck me, pleassse.’

      For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then the closet door he leaned on suddenly opened and Voldemort tumbled out in a tangle of sheets.

     A pair of steady arms caught him.Before he could make more shameful noises, Harry caught his mouth and kissed him passionately. Tongue plundered his mouth and teeth grazed thin lips. The boy’s kiss was as sweet as his first taste of chocolate, melting at the tip of his tongue. Voldemort leaned into the kiss as deft fingers unwrapped him and roamed his naked skin. Harry held him close. The heat radiating off him seeped through his Hogwarts shirt and warmed Voldemort’s cool skin to a color of flushed pink. Voldemort poked at Harry's stomach with his erect dick, asking for attention. Harry graciously complied. A single digit prodded at Voldemort’s entrance and that was all it took for him to throw his head back with a scream of pleasure.

      Harry lifted him up like he weighed almost nothing – more air and magic than flesh and bone – and pressed him against the soft surface of the living room couch. One hand held Voldemort’s head in place without breaking the kiss, while the other finally freed his cock from his trousers. Voldemort felt the hot hardness against his thigh and his legs trembled as if burnt, an ongoing battle in his subconscious between the urge of spreading himself open and snapping them shut.

      Harry wasted no time as he flipped Voldemort over and fucked him in the dripping ass. This angle helped him pound hard into an unexpected, unvisited place, and his Omega came with back arched gracefully like a bow, hip jerking and silky tightness convulsing around him. Harry moaned in pleasure. His cock thickened even more as he bent down to lap at his Omega’s neck, feasting himself on the sweet pheromones there. Voldemort was one of a kind – he tasted like a rupture of honey from volcanoes of ice. Harry left deep red sucking marks along the curve of his pale neck while simultaneously exploring the landscape of his bare back. Hands traveled every inch of skin, worshipping every dip and jutting of bones, before reaching for the sensitive nubs over his chest.

      Voldemort’s hip has been swaying instinctively to meet his Alpha’s every thrust. He nails himself eagerly against every push of Harry’s cock and sucks greedily at every pull, as if clinging to its presence. Harry is stunning. His mouth hot as the month he was born, setting Voldemort’s skin ablaze with a trail of kisses. His hands electrify with magic. His hot breath the aroma of youth and arousal. His eyes are alive with raw lust, cutting harsher than precious stones. His cock feels divine. Tension builds up quickly in the Omega’s belly. Waves after waves of pleasure overcomes him, rocking him back and forth under his Alpha.

      Voldemort’s thighs were slicked with liquids and trembling, exhausted. His arms too sore from holding himself up, they gave out and he fell facedown into the couch. Every push slid him across the fabric, leaving a trail of tears. He would have fallen into the couch if not for the cock inside hooking his belly and his Alpha's hands gripping his hips. That was when something cool and hard slid against his skin and slithered underneath him.

      ‘Nagini!’ Voldemort exclaimed abashed. The python had snuck under him and used her girth to hold him up.

      Harry’s movements faltered for a second, taken aback. Then he smiled amused ‘Thank you Nagini.’

      ‘Husssh ss and keep mating.’ Nagini replied like it was the most normal thing in the world to support someone during intercourse.

      ‘No sto..!’ Voldemort summoned the last bit of his strengths to struggle. His Alpha pushed into him especially hard with a mischievous smile, causing him to bump his over sensitive dick against his familiar’s cool scale. Voldemort’s denials turned into a sequence of high pitched cries and whimpers as Harry fucked him brutally. Nagini rested calmly beneath him while holding him up in place. It didn’t take long for Voldemort to resume rocking his hips and drooling over Nagini’s scales like an over-used whore.

      With one last thrust into his now warm and soft hole, the Alpha and the Omega climaxed in unison. Voldemort moaned loudly at the familiar sting in his ass as his Alpha stretched him. Harry nuzzled his neck and traced the still fresh bite mark over his gland, longing for the taste of flesh. They stayed like this until Voldemort was swollen with his Alpha’s cum.

\------------------------------

Nagini eyed them curiously ‘That wasss over fassst.’

╰（‵□′）╯ ‘Hey I’m definitely above average for my species and I’m still growing!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't think snakes actually support each other during sex in their crazy mating ball, but it wrote itself and turned out like this.


	4. Chapter 4

       At first, Harry thought he was dreaming. But that couldn’t be the case. He would never dream up a place so monstrous. The floor was a span of cold, hard marbles, so clean it gleamed with his own reflection. One side of the throne room stood a gigantic wall of glass showing an endless ocean. Luxurious green drapes framed the dark, dead waters, in which sea monsters the size of dragons roamed. The boney corpse of a mermaid hung under a diamond chandelier. Along the dark edges of the room, limbs dangled like wall decors. Arms and feet of men, women, children. Hooves of a unicorn, feet of a bunny. Harry tore his eyes away before he could recognize someone familiar. At last, in the center of the room was a throne fit for a king, on top of an impressive flight of stairs built from silver and skeletons, sapphires and skulls. Voldemort sat on his mighty throne, dozing off.

       His Omega looked just as weirdly beautiful as he remembered. Harry was past the stage of questioning his own sanity for finding Voldemort attractive, but this messed-up place was putting every fiber of his being on edge.

       “Harry”. A voice called softly from behind. Harry whipped around and saw a man standing mere inches away, though he never saw or heard him approach. He reached quickly for his wand but there was nothing in his pockets.

       “We are in the lobby of the Dark Lord’s mind.” The man supplied. He wore plain black robes, something that Voldemort would wear. He looked shockingly like Tom Riddle, but paler and thinner, with light burn marks across his face.

       “The lobby of his mind.” Harry repeated dumbly.

       “Master Occlumens can construct places, even worlds, within their minds.” The older-and-uglier Riddle explained “He must be very vulnerable now for us to slip in here.”

        _No wonder this is like a textbook example of an evil overlord’s lair._ Harry thought. It also explains why it reminded him vaguely of the Slytherins common room, only much larger and far more sinister.

       “And if Voldemort is sleeping on the throne.” Harry asked tensely “…Then what are you?”

       An almost fond smile stretched the man’s lips. “This is our chance to reveal the truth, precious.”

      “Excuse me?” While Harry was still in shock at being called precious, a hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Creepy-Riddle sighed in contentment at the skin contact. His hand was just like young Tom Riddle’s, elegantly shaped with porcelain skin. But somehow it felt bloodied and skinless to the touch, like the dead chickens Aunt Petunia used to prepare for dinner. Harry recoiled instinctively and slapped the hand away.

      The burn marks on Riddle’s face flared and darkened as his face twisted at the outright rejection. Large hands gripped Harry’s arms like iron clamps. Before Harry could protest, Riddle’s face suddenly took up his entire field of vision and those sneering lips launched themselves against Harry’s.

      ‘We are meant to be’ He whispered against Harry’s mouth ‘my Horcrux..’

      “Gahh” Harry woke up with a jolt with the taste of raw chicken still in his mouth. He had fallen asleep with Voldemort on the tiny sofa. The sun was shining through window and covered their entangled bodies in a warm yellow glow. Harry never noticed before the snaky monster had eyelashes. They were white like feathers and casted long shadows on his cheeks. Voldemort shifted against his chest and crimson eyes fluttered open.

      “Morning.” Harry said and waited for the situation to unfold.

      His Omega didn’t return the pleasantry. He looked disoriented and tried to pull himself up clumsily. They had been hanging precariously over the edge of the tiny sofa. Any sudden movement would be unwise – Harry learned that as he caught Voldemort just in time and prevented both of them from tumbling to the floor. Voldemort barely struggled when Harry pinned him against his chest. Rather, he leaned into the embrace as if all the bones in his body had melted.

      Harry’s inner Alpha perked up at the smallest sign of distress. There was something wrong with his Omega. Even when Voldemort burned with heat, his skin had always been cool to the touch. Harry gently brought his forehead against Voldemort’s and was shocked by the warmth he felt.

      ‘Were you there?’ Voldemort whispered hoarsely.

      ‘In your head?’ Harry asked absentmindedly as he ran his hands along the Omega’s body. The pale skin was painted with hickeys, bruises and even rings of teeth, but otherwise there were no injuries. Voldemort winced.

      'Does it hurt? Can you tell me where?' Without a word, Voldemort folded himself against Harry’s body to hide from the sunlight. Harry ran a hand through his messy sex hair in frustration and pressed his forehead against Voldemort’s again. Taking in a deep breath of the Omega’s chilly scent, Harry concentrated on the glowing connection they shared. Immediately, his head became like a cauldron of chocolate fudge. His body felt like it had been run over by a truck and then drilled together by the joints. His stomach burned, and his lower abdomen pulsed with pain.

      When Harry tore himself from Voldemort’s head he almost spilled the content of his stomach to the floor. Cursing, he placed Voldemort back down on the sofa and got up. Realizing that his pants were still rolled down to the knees and certain indecent bits were poking out, Harry quickly straightened out his clothes and zipped himself up. Harry found an empty glass in the kitchen and filled it up with water.

      'Drink.' He said. To his relief Voldemort opened his lips to the water like a lamb and sucked every last drop from the glass.

      Taking advantage of a cognitively impaired Dark Lord, Harry patted his head like he had been a well-behaved puppy. 'I’ll go find some food for us.' Harry explained even though Voldemort very possibly had no idea what he was saying.

      ‘Hmm’. Nagini hummed. She was basking in the sunlight on the window frame, belly round with food and tail tapping leisurely. ‘Goat tastes nice. But I prefer human.’

      ‘Look after him.’ Harry told the day-dreaming snake and left.

      Before his walk of shame to the nearest grocery, Harry tried to look marginally more presentable. He took out Voldemort’s wand and casted several cleaning charms on himself. Those came out way too strong and Harry felt like he just got roasted in a drying machine, but it was better than nothing. Harry was pondering the problem of money, since he had zero muggle currency on him, when a much bigger problem presented itself.

      It seemed like when Harry tossed Barty out of the window, the unlucky bastard landed on top of the fence. In addition to the crushed hole in Barty’s chest from the blasting curse, one pointy headed spike went straight through his thigh. The Death Eater dangled on the fence like a R-rated Halloween decoration, complete with the revolting smell of overnight blood and buzzing flies.

      Fighting the nausea, Harry walked closer. Barty’s face was the color of ash, and Harry couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

      “Barty!” Harry called.

      The human kebab’s eyes opened into tiny slits. Blood had seeped into the whites of his eyeballs. “Potter.” He wheezed out. Harry let out a sigh. Whether that was from relief or frustration he couldn’t tell. The fact that Barty was alive was putting him in a very difficult situation.

      “The…Dark Lord will kill you…in no time.” Barty bit out. He was a real tough bastard to be able to talk, considering the ribs poking out of his chest. Harry pictured Barty hanging out here all night, forced to hear the slutty noises his Lord made. That image made Harry flash a smile at the dying man.

      “When his heat is over he will want to kill both of us. Don’t think he’s such a forgiving Lord. But luckily you’ll be dead before that.”

      “No! I am his most trusted.. most..” Barty’s denials turned into a fit of violent coughs, and he resorted to skinning Harry alive with his eyes. If looks could kill, Harry had no doubt he would be cut to ten thousand pieces already. “Calm your tits.” Harry started rummaging through Barty’s clothes, careful to avoid touching the hole in his chest “You will want to answer my next questions very carefully. How come you carried Moody’s wand?”

      “That’s Professor Moody to you, boy.” Those were the exact words Moody used, whenever he tapped Harry on the head with his cane and reminded him of his place. Harry fought hard to resist the urge to hurt the death eater scum more for mimicking that.

      Pulling at Barty’s clothes roughly, Harry found an expensive looking pouch with extendable charm casted on it. Many items rolled and jingled when Harry gave it a shake. Then attached to Barty’s belt, Harry found a familiar looking wine flask.

      “Quit playing games with me” Harry gripped it so tightly his knuckles whitened. “Where is he now?”

      Barty laughed. “You are not..killer, Potter.” To prove him wrong Harry grabbed the spiked fence that ran through his leg and shook, and Barty let out a blood curdling scream.

      “I killed him!” Barty shouted “After I had no use of him. And I tortured him to my satisfaction!” Harry jabbed Voldemort’s wand into his neck. “Why?” He wanted to know “Did Voldemort order you to do it?” True, Moody was a powerful and respected Auror. But it made no sense to send an able servant to infiltrate Hogwarts just to kill him, especially when Voldemort had barely been resurrected. Was it just for sick pleasure, then?

      Barty coughed up more blood. “Dull as ever! Did you really think you could win the Triwizard Tournament by yourself with your pitiful magic? Who do you think put your name in the Gob…” Harry punched Barty in the already bloody face to shut him up. It was truly ridiculous how much he sounded like that nightmarish professor who trained him like a dog and made him feel like a worthless piece of shit at times. There was too much pent up aggression from those late night training sessions, Harry’s fist acted by itself. As it turned out, punching Barty in the face had incredible therapeutic effects. Harry felt refreshed when Barty’s face rolled to the side and finally went quiet. He felt he was finally able to think with a clear head. What Barty had been saying…something quickly clicked in Harry’s mind. Harry looked at the wine flask in his hand like he had seen it for the first time. Carefully he brought it up to his nose, and the foul smell was without a doubt Polyjuice.

      _Jesus fucking Merlin’s balls_.

      For a moment Harry wanted to turn a blind eye to all the clues and deny the truth. It’s hard enough to believe that a criminal from Azkaban could live under Dumbledore’s crooked nose for an entire school year. The older Alpha he called professor turned out to be a rotten Death Eater all along. That’s a harder pill to swallow. But then it all made sense. Barty was the one who put his name in the Goblet, which turned out to be a portkey to the Dark Lord. He always thought Moody was too damn crazy to be normal. And those private lessons he called training always made Harry wonder if Moody secretly hated his guts.

      “What an insane world we’re in.” Harry muttered “You’re professor Moody and I marked Voldemort. What’s gonna happen tomorrow? Hermione becoming a dark witch?”

      Face still rolled to the side, Barty gave no response. Two pitiful drops of blood dripped from his broken nose, like his body had dried up from the massive blood loss.

      Harry feared for a moment that he was dead. Berating himself for his hot temper, Harry slapped Barty on the cheek. When the bloody mess remained unresponsive, Harry yelled into his face.

      “Wake up!”

      Struggling, Barty’s eyes opened and sent a weak glare in Harry’s general direction.

      Trying to not show his relief, Harry grabbed Barty’s right arm dangling over the fence. “Let’s hope you are good at healing spells as well, professor.” Harry told the wide-eyed death eater as he pressed Moody’s wand into his palm.

      Barty’s lips quivered. He seemed unable to find words for a while. “…I need my bag. Potions in there.”

      Harry hesitated for a second, gave the pouch a last shake, and placed it on Barty’s stomach. Then without looking back, Harry summoned his broom and took off like a gust of wind to the nearest town.

      Barty was left to piece himself back together. Harry believed it possible, especially for a cockroach like Barty. At the same time, Harry would not be too surprised to see a dead corpse upon his return. After all, he had given Barty a chance. What he did with it was up to him.

     Harry grinned when he saw an undoubtedly alive Barty slumped against the fence on the floor. The large hole in his chest filled out with pink scar tissues, even though a broken piece of wood was still went through his leg. Barty looked only half alive and too exhausted to lift a finger. But when Harry tossed a bag of fried chicken and canned food at him, he looked up with those bloodshot eyes. Barty studied the boy who lived, carrying groceries in his hands like he was headed to some Alpha-Omega domestic bliss, and barked out a laugh. He laughed until the still raw wound in his chest tore up.

      People said that he was insane, but their golden boy was the really mad one. Barty thought himself in general a good judge of character. How did he miss the boy’s amazing potential for madness?

      Watching the boy disappear from his vision, Barty closed his eyes to rest. He must recuperate and regain his strengths. He sank into a deep sleep by the fence, until a familiar stink of rats woke him.

      He looked up and saw Pettigrew, thinner and balder than he remembered. The wounded rat had scurried back with his tail between his legs. Barty felt a bad taste in his mouth at the sight for that coward.

      “Look at what the boy had done to us!” Pettigrew whispered forcefully. He even moved like a rodent, crouched lowly to nurse the bandaged bump that was once an arm. Those beady eyes shone at him as if he was someone to sympathize with. “I know a safe place to hide, until the Dark Lord regains his power.”

      Barty refrained from crucioing the rat who had the gall to come back after causing this entire mess. That must be saved for later. “What does our Lord have use for a pair of cripples?” Barty said “We must deliver the boy to our Lord before his heat-” Pettigrew swallowed thickly at that word “-was over.”

      Barty stared at the lesser death eater while a plan quickly hatched in his head. He had a feeling it was his last chance to earn back his place beside the Dark Lord, and he would give everything to take it. “We will catch the boy before he slips away .”


End file.
